


71. Broken

by wicherwill



Series: 100 prompts [11]
Category: Cardcaptor Sakura
Genre: F/F, Gen, Light Angst, One-Sided Attraction, more stuff from the archive of works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:54:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23368762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicherwill/pseuds/wicherwill
Summary: Singing while breaking
Series: 100 prompts [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680868
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	71. Broken

The minute she dialed the number—speed dial number 1, Sakura-chan’s phone—she had felt the first crack.

With each word—Li-kun is going to Hong Kong, Sakura-chan. Yes, I just heard. No, he’s not coming back—she could feel another small crack.

And then there was a click, and the line went dead, because Sakura-chan had hung up the phone (on her), having finally realized what Tomoyo had seen months ago. She clenched the phone tight, chanting silently, _her happiness is my happiness, her happiness is my happiness_. The cracks remained, but she would hold the pieces together with sheer willpower. She had a choir competition coming up. The whole team was counting on her for the solo. Singing was cathartic, after all, wasn’t it?

It took all she had to not scream at the irony of it all. A song of happiness, of joy, talking about the joy of walking through sunlit fields or some other nonsense. Tomoyo was glad for small miracles. In Latin, at least, she could force the meaning out of her mind.

And then the shining moment was over, and it all came rushing back. All she wanted was to go disappear in a corner and cry her-

Her director caught her at that moment, and Tomoyo managed to understand that they had won, yes, and the audience was demanding an encore, yes, and would she mind terribly singing that beautiful piece she was working on after the choir finished?

Of course she said yes while her mind intoned _no, no, no._

It would have to wait then, she sighed, walking onto the stage as the main choir finished a pretty a cappella piece. Taking the microphone, she tried again to glue herself back together.

The lyrical French filled the auditorium, and Tomoyo heard herself singing of love and loss.

She couldn’t help it—she, the stoic one, the calm one, the composed one. With a shuddering breath, she soared into the refrain, her heart breaking into a million tiny pieces.


End file.
